


Faith of the Heart

by RishiDiams



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Star Trek, Eventual Smut, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-12-25 16:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12040014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RishiDiams/pseuds/RishiDiams
Summary: At a time when humanity frowns upon inter-species relationships, Captain Jonathan Noble of the USS Tardis hides his half-breed nature. But the Gallifreyan side of his heritage means that he’ll recognize his soulmate the first time they touch. Lieutenant Rose Tyler is not only an unwanted addition to his crew, she’s his soulmate, and it’s going to take a lot for him to admit that the universe got it right.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you familiar with the Star Trek timeline, this story takes place between the events of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country and the first episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Specifically, Jean-Luc Picard is approximately six years old.

Jon grumbled as he straightened his uniform jacket. Ever since he'd been made captain of the Tardis he longed for the days when he could crawl around her engines for hours in nothing but a stained old jumper and a pair of trousers. Especially if such maintenance kept him far away from the more odious of his official duties. Running a hand over his dark hair he grumbled again; somehow amidst everything else he would also have to make time for a haircut in the near future.

A notification sound from his ready room indicated that he'd received a transmission. Too premature to be Starfleet Command checking in on the new crew members, he assumed it had to be the reply he'd been expecting from his sister. The long-standing joke was that she might as well join him on board since she spent so much of her time recording communications where she complained that he didn't respond often enough. At least then she'd be able to see his face and read his amused expressions while she complained. Stepping out of the en suite he verified that, yes, the transmission was indeed from Donna and could certainly wait. 

He tapped his combadge. "Conn, what's our status?"

_"We'll be fully docked in 10 minutes, Captain."_

"Very good." He tapped the combadge a second time. "Commanders Jones and Harkness meet me at airlock one."

_"Aye, Captain."_

_"Yes, sir."_

Jon walked up to the airlock a few minutes later in time to see Jones' cheeks turn bright red. He had no idea what Harkness had said to her, but he could imagine. A well-timed cough drew their attention away from each other.

Harkness smiled broadly. "Morning, Captain."

Jones straightened her spine and met his eyes with a hint of lingering embarrassment. "Captain."

Well, that was certainly interesting. Whatever Harkness had said, it must have been bawdier than he first thought. Typically Jones was a tough one and could easily handle herself, so Jon shouldn't need to intervene, but he would if she told him that Harkness had stepped out of line. However, the hiss of the airlock depressurizing stalled any further conversation, so he filed it away as something to monitor and possibly bring up at a later time.

As soon as the airlock slid open a dark-skinned young man stepped through and glanced first at Harkness before settling his gaze on Jon. He thrust forward the datapadd containing his transfer orders. "Lt. Commander Michael Smith requesting permission to come aboard, Captain."

Jon took the padd and slid his hand into the other man's outstretched palm. "Commander, welcome aboard. Let me introduce you to my First Officer, Commander Harriet Jones, and my Chief of Security, Lt. Commander Jack Harkness." 

Smith moved down the line, shaking hands with Jones and Harkness in turn, and Jon turned his attention to the other person who had just stepped through the airlock.

Her blonde hair was pulled back in a regulation bun and her blue Sciences jacket was perfectly pressed, falling smoothly over a pair of black trousers. The fact that he found her incredibly beautiful, with her whiskey colored eyes and full mouth, he dismissed as trivial; she was far from the first beautiful crew member he'd ever served with.

"Lieutenant Rose Tyler requesting permission to come aboard, Captain."

He took the datapadd from her and opened the file on it which contained her service record, letting his silence speak for itself. He'd reviewed all of her documentation well in advance of approving her, of course, but he allowed the facts and dates printed in black and white to refresh his memory. She was not standard 'Fleet trained, a sticking point he'd been over with Jones and Harkness a hundred times. In fact, she was barely trained at all, having left her secondary schooling a few weeks before graduation due to - according to the official transcript - "personal reasons." She'd then spent a handful of years off the grid before showing up at the academy at the beginning of Commander Smith's final year and breezing through a three year counseling degree program in approximately nine months. Not only was it unheard of, but, like Commander Smith, she'd graduated with honors. Since then, the two of them had been inseparable, it was implicit that to accept Commander Smith a captain also had to accept Lieutenant Tyler, and the Tardis would be their third joint posting in as many years. They were not related and though they denied any romantic relationship, Jon had never seen such concessions outside of those two reasons.

Jon looked up at her again and wondered if he'd ever been that young. 

"Lieutenant Tyler, for the record, my official stance is that the Tardis does not need a counselor." 

He heard Harkness inhale a particularly loud breath, but he continued without even pausing. 

"I've been on board since the day she was commissioned and captain for the last seven years. I don't trust just anyone with her engines and I've been told that Commander Smith is the best. Unfortunately, to have him I also have to have you. I'll thank you to stay off of my bridge and out of my way. If you do that you and I won't have a problem."

She barely batted an eye when he finished, raising his estimation of her by the slightest notch, and Jon idly wondered if she'd heard a similar speech before.

"So long as I am allowed to maintain office hours and do my job for the crew, that arrangement suits me just fine, Captain."

He switched off the datapadd and stuck his free hand out to her. "Permission to come aboard granted, Lieutenant Tyler." 

He had a moment to reflect on the warmth of her hand before his brain short-circuited. Jonathan Noble was unconscious before he hit the decking.

* * /\ * *

After a surprisingly nice meal, the speaker crackled to life again. _"Name?"_

"Lieutenant Rose Marion Tyler."

_"Name?"_

"Lieutenant Rose Marion Tyler."

_"Name?"_

She slapped her hand on the metal table, rattling the silverware resting on the tray her food had been delivered on. "You've been askin' me that all day! The answer's not suddenly going to change when you ask it for the thousandth time! What happened to the Captain? Is he okay?"

_"Name?"_

Rose sighed. "Lieutenant Rose Marion Tyler. Starfleet identification number 95-150866. Born: April 7, 2286 in the New London colony, Arion, 18 Delphini B."

_"Name?"_

"Father: Captain Peter Alan Tyler, deceased; mother: Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Prentice. Graduated with honors, Starfleet Academy class of 2307, psychology with a focus on crew relations during long-term subspace missions."

_"Name!"_

"First post after graduation was ship's counselor aboard the Yamato under Captain Abraham, term: eleven months. Second post --"

The door to the cell flew open and Rose, having been confined to the eight by eight room with a single weak light source for - as near as she could estimate - two days, blinked at the sudden increase in light.

"Stand up," a woman's voice commanded. "Let me look at you."

Rose did as she was told, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light enough for her to see that the woman was not much taller than her with a head of red hair that could only be described as a mane, but her face was still in shadow.

"What is your purpose here?"

"I requested and received a transfer to the Tardis. I'm a ship's counselor."

"Why the Tardis specifically?"

"They requested a Chief Engineer. Mickey -- sorry -- Commander Smith was up for promotion and he accepted. We're a package deal, he and I."

"Do you intend any harm to Captain Jonathan Noble?"

"No. I think he's a rude git," - off where she couldn't see, someone snorted - "but I don't want to hurt him."

"I'm glad to hear that. Oh, I didn't introduce myself. Donna Temple."

Fully aware that, at least as far as she knew, the last person she'd touched was still unconscious, Rose hesitantly took the woman's extended hand and breathed a sigh of relief when nothing odd happened. "Lieutenant Rose Tyler."

"Good to meet you, Lieutenant. Just so you know, that rude git's my brother." Rose's apologies were ignored by Ms. Temple who leaned her head out the door and spoke to, presumably, the person who had snorted earlier. "We're fine here."

Commander Harkness stepped into her line of sight, holstering his phaser. "Lieutenant Tyler, we haven't been officially introduced. My name is Jack Harkness and I'm Chief of Security. I'm sure you'd like to get out of there and get yourself settled into your quarters."

"Actually, I'd really like an explanation as to what happened."

Commander Harkness and Ms. Temple exchanged a worried glance.

"I'll walk her to her quarters, Jack."

"Ma'am --"

"It's fine,” she insisted. “Thank you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Happy to let Ms. Temple take the lead, Rose said nothing as they exited the brig and stepped into the lift. She thought to mention that they were in the wrong place when the doors opened on deck eight, but Ms. Temple stepped off and started walking before she could, leaving Rose to catch up to her.

"I heard all of the dry details back there, but..." she prompted as they walked.

"Mum's back home on Arion. Dad was captain of the research vessel Amaryllis."

Ms. Temple gasped. "You're one of those Tylers."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She stopped. "I'm sorry about your dad."

"It's fine, Ma'am. It's been a long time."

"There's no closure in those situations, though, so it makes it harder. Oh, look at me trying to be all sage. You're the counselor, I'm sure you already know that.” She started walking again when Rose nodded. “What about you and Commander Smith? Package deal, you said, that's unusual."

"Friends, Ma'am, though I'm the closest thing to family he has left since his grandmother passed." They’d arrived at a door, and Ms. Temple reached out and keyed it open, once again moving on without waiting for Rose, but this time she couldn’t be silent. "Ma'am, I was told my quarters are on deck ten."

"I know. These are mine, at least temporarily. Tea?" she asked when Rose joined her. "I know how you New Londoners like your tea."

"Yes, please."

While Ms. Temple placed an order with the replicator, Rose looked around the room. A man's sleeveless undershirt laid over the back of a chair and papers strewn around the room spoke more of the owner having stepped out for a moment than temporary quarters. But it wasn't until she saw the plaque hanging on the wall above the desk that she realized whose room she was in.

_The people of the Republic of Ir'Ga wish to recognize_  
_Jonathan Noble_  
_for service above and beyond the call of duty in the face of mortal danger._  
_Given this 5th day of Aur, 344._  
_No gift or honor could ever fully express our gratitude._

She turned back to the room. "Ma'am, what happened to the Captain?"

"Truthfully, we don't know." Ms. Temple handed her a teacup and gestured at the sofa. She waited until they were both seated to elaborate. "All tests come back normal. As far as the instruments are concerned he's merely sleeping, but the doctor has been unable to wake him."

"Will he be alright?"

"I think so. I understand you only met him briefly, but let me tell you that my brother's a stubborn one. It'll take a lot more than whatever happened to --"

The door to the room slid open, startling them both, but not nearly as badly as the sight of the person who walked in, his shoulders hunched over and a few days' growth covering his cheeks.

"Jon!" Ms. Temple jumped off of the sofa and started towards him.

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of her voice. Rose tried not to squirm under his scrutiny in the moments before his gaze turned to his sister.

"Ambassador Temple." He nodded his head formally and Rose had to bite back a gasp. His sister was an Ambassador?

"Oh, hush you," she said as she pulled him into an embrace that was blatantly unwanted, with the Captain's body remaining stiff and him pulling away from her as soon as he could. "They were supposed to call me the minute you woke up."

Something passed between the siblings that even with all of Rose's experience reading people she couldn't decipher. Then the Captain turned his attention back to Rose.

"Lieutenant --" was all he managed to say before Rose jumped off of the sofa.

"I think I'll leave the two of you alone." She walked to the edge of the door's sensor range and stopped. "I'd like to apologize, Captain, for any part I may have played in this. I'm glad you're better."

When he nodded she left the room. A few minutes later Rose entered the quarters she'd been assigned. It was no surprise at all, considering everything that had happened, that her luggage had been opened and the contents rifled through. She sighed and started putting her things away.


	2. Chapter 2

He was fully aware that continuing to stare long after the door had closed would be cause for his sister's comment, but was unable to bring himself to move for several seconds after the Lieutenant had left.

"Jon --"

"How long have you been here?" he asked, finally moving away from the door.

"I arrived late last night. Jon, what happened?"

"Did the two of you have a nice chat?"

Donna rested her hands on her hips. In the momentary silence - because he knew his sister and it would indeed only be momentary - he turned to the replicator. 

"Trimocor tea, hot, one sugar."

"She's lovely. Probably out of her wits with worry, because she drank that sludge Trimocor without batting an eye. You really need to have your replicator adjusted so it can make other kinds. They can do that now, you know," she added sarcastically.

Jon looked over at his coffee table where two cups rested, one full, the other almost empty, and felt his heart flip. The replicator pinged the readiness of his own cup, but he ignored it.

"What was it like?"

Donna sighed. "What was what like, you dumbo?"

He met her penetrating gaze and finally allowed his mask to fall. "The first time you touched Shaun."

"Oh!" Donna's eyes filled with tears. She pointed the way Lieutenant Tyler had gone. "Her?"

"I don't know. Maybe? Yes." Jon ran a hand over his head and once again reminded himself that it was time for a haircut since his fingers could actually run _through_ his hair. He never looked good with long hair and if -- no, he had no business wondering what Rose Tyler thought of his hair. "It wasn't what I expected, that's for sure."

"Well, I imagine not," Donna scoffed. "You were unconscious for two and a half days."

"Tell me the parts I don't know."

"She means you no harm, which I suppose all things considered is a good thing. There's an intense goodness to her, Jon. It runs deep. She misses her father, loves her mother and that Commander Smith -- as a brother," she hurried to add off of the sudden pained groan that was ripped from him. "I wasn't able to get more. It was only a brief touch. Now your turn."

"It's all jumbled, I can't make sense of most of it. There are some parts that are," he felt himself blush, "decidedly x-rated, some that aren't. Like you said, it was a brief touch."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What are you going to do about it, Dumbo?"

"Not a damn thing." He ignored Donna's outraged gasp. "She's fifteen years younger than me, Donna, and under my command to boot. Besides, thirty seconds of nonsense is not enough incentive to risk --"

"Nonsense! Just because your thick skull can't make sense of it doesn't mean it's not real. Almost forty years old and you've never even come close to an encounter like this, and you're just going to throw it away?"

"It's different for me and you know that. Besides, what am I supposed to tell her? 'Oh, hey, it’s kind of a huge secret, but my grandad wasn’t human, meaning I'm part-alien, and when I touch my one true love, my soulmate, if you will, for the first time I get a complete telepathic download of our future. Guess what, it's you, and the connection sort of accidentally overloaded my brain which is why I spent the first two and a half days after we met in a coma. And by the way, I'm sorry for being such an arse before I passed out at your feet.'"

Her eyebrows had raised at the 'such an arse' part, but to his surprise she let it go. "You don't have to tell her anything so dramatic, just talk to her. Get to know her. I know you might find this hard to believe, but there's a chance you might actually like her and she might actually like you."

Jon snorted.

"I didn't pass out," she offered after a few moments of silence, finally answering his question, "if that's what you're asking. And mine wasn't jumbled. It was clear, plotted out. I don't know why yours wouldn't be. I don't suppose you've considered calling Grandad?"

"No. Definitely no,” he leveled a finger at her, “and don't you go doing it for me. Because that's all I need. Bad enough you're here, can you imagine what it'd be like if he showed up, too? And you know he would, he'd be too curious not to."

She paused, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves, which worried him, because Donna never hesitated about anything. "I could look."

"You could what?"

"Try to make sense of it at least. Give you some kind of direction to go in."

"Donna --"

"You know how hard an offer that is to make, Jon."

"I do, and I appreciate it." Gently, he touched her cheek so that she could feel how honest he was being.

"I love you, you big numpty,” she sniffed. “I want you to be happy."

"I am happy." He projected that as well before removing his hand and smiling sweetly. "And how long will the Ambassador be staying with us?"

"Oh, stop, you know I haven't been an Ambassador since before the twins were born."

"Not for lack of trying on the Senate's part. They're desperate to get their hands on your - and I quote - 'Unrivaled diplomatic success rate' again."

"I just can't do it anymore, Jon. I've got babies at home."

"Your babies haven't been babies in a long time."

"Not that you'd know," she scoffed. "You never come to visit."

He faked a yawn. It wasn’t difficult. "Why don’t you rail at me over dinner tonight? I think I'm going to lie down for a bit."

Her expression pinched and she moved towards him with her hand outstretched. "Are you sure you're alright? Usually you're the one trying to convince the rest of us mere mortals that you don't actually need sleep."

"I'm fine," he insisted, dodging her hand. The last thing he needed was for her to touch him and discover that he was lying. "Got a clean bill of health from the doctor and everything. But as she reminded me, just because I've been in a coma doesn't mean I've rested."

"Alright. Dinner tonight. Eighteen hundred?"

"Sounds good." He looked around his quarters and winced at the thought that the Lieutenant had seen it in such disarray before immediately chastising himself for even thinking it. "I'll try to get the place cleaned up before you get here."

"You do that. But after you rest." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I think I'll stay a few days. Make sure you don't have any relapses or ill effects."

"Thanks, Donna."

* * /\ * *

_"What the hell happened, Rose?"_

"I don't know, Mickey. Nothing, as far as I could tell. You saw it, one second he was spouting off about how I should stay out of his way, the next he was lying on the decking."

_"Well, I'll thank you not to touch him again. Hard enough joining a crew of engineers who all think they should have been promoted instead, but to have them know that I spent my first two days onboard in the brig... it doesn't look so good."_

"I said I was sorry."

_"Yeah, well, how about trying some of your counseling mumbo jumbo on these guys? Maybe they'll stop glaring daggers at me every time I turn around."_

"You know, you're not the only --" The door chime sounded and Rose looked away from the viewscreen. "Who is it?" After a moment's silence the only answer she got was another chime. "Mick, I've got to go, there's someone at the door."

_"Yeah, alright. See you at lunch tomorrow?"_

"Sure. I'll meet you in the Galley." The door chime sounded again and Rose was halfway out of her chair before she disconnected the call. "I'm coming."

He started speaking as soon as she thumbed the door open. "Well, it's about time. I hope you don't intend to keep your patients waiting that long."

"Captain Noble --" she huffed, but he interrupted her before she could get up a good head of steam.

"I'm sorry," his cheeks reddened, and Rose got the impression those were not words he said often. She also noticed that he'd shaved and gotten a haircut since she'd seen him last. He really was a handsome sod, tall and fit, with broad shoulders and a pair of the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen, despite his rudeness. "That -- it was meant to be a joke. I didn't mean for it to... it's been a difficult couple of days."

"For us both."

"Yes," he acknowledged, and a small knot of tension released itself from between her shoulders. At least, unlike Mickey, he wasn’t dismissing what she’d gone through, even if his brand of humor left something to be desired. "What happened wasn't your fault, but based on the evidence in front of him, Commander Harkness had to go with the most likely culprit which, unfortunately, was you."

"I understand. So… they figured out what caused it then?"

His blue eyes flashed. "Yeah. And it won't happen again."

"That's good to hear. Great, in fact."

He smiled tightly, his head bobbing, but he didn’t say anything further and the silence began to stretch out uncomfortably.

"Um, so, after your little speech, I wasn't sure how to go about bringing this up, but I typically like to meet with the Captain to discuss the crew before I officially open my doors to see patients. Since you're here now," she gestured at the room behind her, "if you..."

To her complete astonishment, his eyes flicked down to her legs. Then he shook his head as though to clear it, his cheeks reddening again. "No. I'm meeting the Ambassador for dinner, so I can't stay. I'll be available tomorrow. You can meet me in my ready room then, whenever you've got the time."

Rose had to resist the urge to look down at herself, because she knew if she did her reaction would be even worse than his. After two and a half days confined to a cell, the first thing she'd done after getting her personal effects sorted was jump in the shower. So, since she'd planned to stay in for the rest of the evening and work, she'd answered the door at barely sixteen hundred hours wearing her pyjamas: a vest top and a matching pair of tiny shorts.

He was hardly regulation himself, with his jacket halfway unbuttoned, exposing his undershirt. It made him look vulnerable and approachable in a way she should not be contemplating about a senior officer who didn’t even like her, a quick glance at her legs notwithstanding. It was curious that he'd reacted to her at all, though. The Captain hadn't seemed the type to be swayed by a pretty face or a pair of nice legs. And then, as quickly as she had the thought she dismissed it; he probably just didn't want to give anyone seeing them the wrong idea by entering her room with both of them dressed so unprofessionally.

"I'll see you in the morning, then," she offered.

"Fantastic. I’ll see you then. Good night, Lieutenant."

"Good night, Captain."

She watched him go, and if she happened to notice exactly how well his regulation trousers hugged his bum, no one had to know.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a tiny little nod to my favorite Star Trek captain in this chapter. One thousand internet points to anyone who catches it.

Mere mortals indeed. After a two hour dinner which consisted mostly of Donna filling him in on all of the minutiae of his niece and nephew's lives, Jon had barely gotten rid of her before his yawns became too strong to suppress any longer. He'd fallen into bed and slept for six hours - practically a record - before waking at two a.m. And then, with three hours remaining until his alarm sounded, he'd had nothing better to do than lie there and pick apart every clear image he could remember from his vision.

Unfortunately, in a twist of fate worthy of Jack Harkness, most of the clearest ones seemed to be of the salacious variety, which reminded him of how he'd blatantly ogled Rose's legs right there in her doorway where anyone could pass and see them. Why she hadn't slapped him or reported him, he had no idea. Sadly, the only excuse he had to offer was that there was a specific vision image of those legs wrapped around his waist as he held her up against the wall of his quarters and slammed into her repeatedly. That image was crystal clear and complete with sensory data, unlike so many others, and the feeling of her legs hugging him as her tight, wet passage clenched around him, her shouts of completion ringing in his ear was too perfect for words.

Another vision was shorter and thankfully tamer, too. The two of them standing together, Rose looking up at him, her hand on his cheek as she whispered his name into the minuscule space between them.

The image had barely faded away when a groan of frustration filled his bedroom. Bad enough that he had the images rattling around in his brain in the first place, now he was referring to the Lieutenant by her first name in his thoughts. He needed to stop that immediately or it would only be a matter of time before he slipped and said it in conversation.

With more than two hours remaining until he had to get ready for his shift on the bridge, Jon dragged himself out of bed, threw on an undershirt and a pair of warm-up trousers, and headed down to the gym. Since his promotion - and once it had become glaringly obvious that the Chief Engineer who had replaced him frowned upon him tinkering on the engines in the middle of the night - Jon had fallen back on exercise to keep him busy once he'd woken up. And this morning he was fairly confident that some time on a treadmill would clear his mind.

Or at least he was, right up until he stepped through the door of the officer's gym and saw the object of his thoughts squatting while holding a kettlebell between her legs, her back to the door. She wore a pair of black capris that were so tight they might as well have been painted on and a matching vest top. Her blonde hair was once again pulled back, but the fine strands near her face were plastered down with sweat. He had half a second to decide whether to turn around or stay before she noticed his reflection in the mirror she faced and couldn't even get annoyed with himself for wasting it admiring the curve of her arse.

"Good morning, Captain."

"Lieutenant."

"I was kind of surprised to see I had the place to myself this morning." She grinned at him over her shoulder. "Knew it wouldn't last."

The grin was what did it, the moment he realized that he'd never taken back his harsh words from their initial meeting, yet she seemed to not only be completely ignoring them but treating him like a friend. And not that he'd ever admit it to Donna, but he liked it. So many of the crew treated him like either a god or a leper that it was refreshing.

"It gets more crowded as second shift starts to wake up and stays that way until shortly after third shift begins. The hours in between are usually pretty light."

"That's good to know." She moved to the rack and put the kettlebell down. "I was just finishing up, but I've got some time. Do you need a spotter?"

"No, I tend to stick to the treadmill." 

She picked up a towel and rubbed it down her neck to slightly underneath the neckline of her vest as she walked towards him, and his mouth ran dry. 

"What about you, do you need a spotter?"

"Nah," she laughed. "That kettlebell is about the heaviest thing I lift. Thanks for offering, though." Her eyes slid closed as the towel made its way around her neck. She needed to stop or he was going to do something stupid like forget they were merely acquaintances and haul her to him and fit his lips to hers. "I'll see you in a couple of hours?"

"I'm usually in my ready room by eight hundred."

"Sounds good. I'll see you then."

She turned to gather up her things and he moved to where the treadmills were all lined up facing yet another mirrored wall. He happened to glance up in the middle of accessing his saved workout on the treadmill's viewscreen to see her steps slow as she walked behind him on her way to the door, her gaze trained on his arse. His whole body suddenly as warm as though he was finishing his workout instead of just starting it, he looked back down before she could notice that she'd been caught. Then, pressing the start button he schooled his expression and looked up again when the treadmill started to move, smiling at her one last time as she walked out the door.

As soon as she was gone he released the breath he'd been holding. He'd known that by definition the person he'd connect with would have to be interested in him, but for some reason it had stuck in his mind that the attraction would be purely academic. Actual physical attraction on the part of his soulmate had not even entered his mind, until now.

Jon rushed through his workout then went back to his quarters to shower and change into his uniform, arriving on the bridge a few minutes before eight hundred.

"Captain on the bridge."

"As you were." He only slowed on the way to his ready room long enough to glance over the crew members sitting at their stations. "Sarah Jane, with me."

"I'm assuming you're the one who called the Ambassador," he said once the door to his ready room had closed behind them.

"I am. Permission to speak freely, sir?"

He rounded his desk and sat with a sigh. "Half the time I don't even know why you ask. Go ahead."

"She's your sister, Jon. Martha couldn't figure out what was wrong with you. At the very least, as your next of kin she had to be notified." Jon glared at her and she rolled her eyes before adding, "And, if I happened to mention in my transmission that I felt the attack could have been linked to your... gift, I can't be held responsible for her hopping on the first freighter headed our way. Besides, it worked out in the end."

The last almost sounded like a question, but Jon wasn't quite so ready to proclaim the situation resolved. Personally, his life was now the most complicated it had ever been.

As if on cue, the door chime sounded, indicating that "complicated" had arrived. Right on time.

* * /\ * *

"Come."

Rose thumbed the door open and stepped into the Captain's ready room. Directly across from the door was a small sitting area consisting of a sofa and two chairs in a loose U shape around an oval coffee table. To the left of that was a massive desk; dark and wooden, it was the opposite of the functional metallic one she'd seen the day before in his quarters. He was seated on the far side of it with his back to the wall, and a lieutenant commander in a blue Sciences uniform stood opposite him. She was the Captain's age at least if not older and wore her mouse-brown hair in a long bob. Based on the crew profiles she'd studied, Rose recognized her as Sarah Jane Smith, Tardis' Science Officer and Second Officer.

"I can come back if this is a bad time."

"It's fine, Lieutenant. This is Lt. Commander Sarah Jane Smith. Sarah Jane, Lieutenant Rose Tyler."

"Ma'am." Rose stepped forward with her hand outstretched and the other woman took it.

"Lieutenant."

"That'll be all, Sarah."

"Yes, Captain."

Rose waited until they were alone. "Really, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"We were done." He nodded at the large stack of paper in her arms. "Should I clear my lunch plans?"

"Hrm? Oh, no, it's not as bad as it looks. I just find that seeing the words written out helps me organize my thoughts."

The Captain opened the top drawer of his desk far enough for her to see that it was full to the brim with paper, and she remembered that there'd been some all over his quarters, too. She smiled and he smiled back at her. At a time when electronic datapadds were the norm, it was nice to find someone who understood.

He pointed behind her and Rose noticed for the first time that the room was L-shaped, with the replicator and a door which presumably lead to an en suite bathroom in an alcove that had been hidden from the doorway. "Before we get started can I get you something to drink?"

"Ooh, yes. Would it be too much to ask for some of the tea I had with the Ambassador yesterday? It was lovely."

His entire expression softened and Rose got the distinct impression that she'd just made him very happy. He stood up and tugged on the hem of his jacket to straighten it. "I can do that. You make yourself comfortable."

"Did you want to sit here or..."

He waved vaguely around the room. "Wherever you'd like."

Rose looked around the room as he walked over to the replicator. The desk would give them plenty of space to work, but with them sitting on opposite sides it would mean a lot of passing papers back and forth. She knew it was only her own thoughts about the very handsome man she'd be sharing with which made the sofa seem too intimate, but if she sat near one of the ends he could sit in the adjacent chair, and the coffee table would allow them some space to spread out.

By the time he returned carrying two steaming mugs she'd already settled on the sofa.

"So, who's up first?" he asked as he placed the mugs on the coffee table and, to her surprise, sat down beside her.

"Well, that depends," she asked, picking up her mug and breathing in the steam. It was still far too hot to drink, but she'd never before encountered such a rich blend of flavors and she wanted to savor it for a moment. It was vaguely chocolatey with a hint of something that reminded her of sage. She made a mental note to ask him later what the tea was called so she could order it for herself. "Would you prefer to go alphabetically or by rank?"

"Rank seems like it would make more sense. That way we can evaluate how departments work together."

"Rank it is then." She put down the mug as she flipped over the alphabetical crew roster she'd brought along just in case and picked up the first assessment. "First up --"

"Harriet Jones, career officer and a real stickler for rank -- "

"Not quite, _Captain_. First up: Jonathan Noble." He made a noise of disgust but let her continue. "Now, at first glance, I would say that he's a bit gruff, but..."

Rose looked up from the paper to see him studying her. With him so close, she could even smell the soap he used over the scent of the tea, but the two blended together created something warm and spicy that nestled low in her belly.

"Go on," he encouraged and her gaze dropped immediately to his lips. When she looked back up, his eyes had darkened and she had to resist the automatic impulse to lick her own lips.

"But his logs read like adventure novels. I think he's actually got a bit of a hero complex, frequently throwing himself into impossible situations and saving the day by the skin of his teeth."

"And how does discovering this help you do your job? Would you counsel him to take fewer risks?"

"Not hardly. I think that would be as effective as replacing the bulkheads with silk and lace. I would, however, recommend that he be assigned a partner on away missions, someone who understands his character and who's not afraid to tell him when risking his life on some crazy scheme isn't worth it."

"And if it is worth it?"

"Then I would expect that partner to be there, ready to pull him out if things get bad."

"Do you have someone in mind?"

"Not yet. It has to be someone that he respects, but from a practical standpoint can't be any of the senior officers."

"That does narrow the field of candidates considerably."

"And personalities have to be taken into consideration, of course."

"Ah."

She shrugged. "It's a work in progress."


	4. Chapter 4

It took them a few hours to go through everything, but the longer they worked the more his grudging respect for the woman he knew was his soulmate turned into out-right admiration for the Tardis' new counselor. Her initial impressions of the crew members were spot on, and that from nothing more than reading performance evaluations and mission reports. By the time they finished he was excited to see what she'd accomplish when she actually started speaking to the crew.

"Thank you, Captain," she said as she gathered up the stacks of paper they'd made into one pile again. "That was very informative. With your permission I'll make an announcement to the crew of my office hours and get to work."

"You have it."

"Great."

She moved to stand and he didn't even think, just stuck his hand out to help her. His touch telepathy usually made any human contact unpleasant at best, so he typically saved it for first meetings and occasions when he wanted to get a read on someone, but he didn't pull back, just waited until she smiled softly up at him and took it. Jon closed his fingers around hers and basked in the calm of her mind as she stood. She was happy with their progress, pleasantly surprised at his cooperation, and, yes, beneath everything else was a current of attraction towards him that was as baffling as it was seductive.

"I don't even think I asked, have you been assigned an office?"

"I usually prefer to see patients in my quarters. The sitting room is comfortable without being too intimate, and it helps people relax to not be in a sterile office."

He walked with her to the door but stopped instead of opening it. "We could meet like this again, if you want, discuss what's going on with the crew. Maybe make it a weekly appointment?"

"My patient sessions are confidential, Captain. Even if I discover an issue that needs to be addressed externally, unless it's imperative I must, I can make recommendations to the patient’s superiors, but I can't share what I’m told. However, if you want to see me weekly, I vary my office hours to accommodate every shift, and I always keep slots open for senior officers."

"No, that's not what I --"

Her smile turned teasing, a hint of pink tongue appearing between her teeth that his eyes immediately latched onto.

The words were on the tip of his tongue to beg her to have dinner with him; his hand itched to curl his fingers around hers again and never let go. Instead, he reached out and opened the door. "I'm glad we got to meet like this. Forget what I said about the bridge, and if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to approach me."

"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate that."

He watched her go for a moment before turning back to his ready room. As soon as the door closed behind him he tapped his combadge. "Ambassador Temple to my ready room, please."

Donna barged in twenty minutes later. "What's on fire?"

"What?"

"You never --"

"There's been a lot of firsts for me lately," he told her as he stood up from his desk. "I want you to look."

She inhaled sharply and turned serious. "Okay. What changed?" Then, when he didn't answer she cocked her head and studied him. "You like her. It hasn't even been 24 hours and you've decided you like her. What happened? What did I miss?"

"Is the sofa okay for this?"

"You know what? Don't answer me. You don't have to." Her words said one thing, but the way she paused to let him speak before sighing and gesturing to the sofa indicated that for some reason she expected the opposite.

Jon sat and waited for her to join him, stilling when she reached up and held her hand poised at his temple. "Push the things you don't want me to see behind a door."

He huffed. "I remember Grandad's lessons better than you do."

"Sure you do."

After a brief pause to let him organize his thoughts, her fingers landed on his temple and he immediately felt her presence pressing against his consciousness. She requested permission to enter and he granted it, and then lost track of the time as Donna sifted through his vision memories until eventually she eased back on the connection.

"Well?"

Her eyes blinked open. "I think it's because you lose her."

"I what?"

"You push her away. The best thing to ever happen to you and you're going to bloody push her away because she tries to get you to admit it." She pummeled her fists against his shoulder. "Sometimes I really hate being your sister."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"You're telling me?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean how would that cause the images to be jumbled?"

"Well, I don't know!" She exhaled sharply and pinned him down with her sharp gaze. "Look, I know you said you didn't want to, but I think you should call Grandad. He'll know what's going on."

"Donna --"

"No. You asked for my help and that's my advice -- actually, first of all I think you need to take your head out of your arse and go ask that girl to dinner. Second, contact Grandad."

"I can't."

"Why not? And don't tell me it's because she's under your command."

He stood and walked away from the sofa.

"Jon, this kind of connection doesn't come along every day, you know. Grandad said it used to be hard enough on just their one little planet, to say nothing of once they started traveling through space. You found her, that's huge; don't give it up."

Wordlessly he thumbed open the door and waited. Donna's face fell as she stood. She seemed so much smaller when she passed him, and when she spoke it was with her back to him. "I'm going to leave as soon as there's a suitable vessel in range. I can't watch you do this to yourself."

"I understand. Thank you for your help."

* * /\ * *

Rose had just enough time after leaving the Captain's ready room to work up an office schedule and compose her message to the crew before it was time to meet Mickey in the Galley, so she made her way there as soon as she was done. When she saw that she'd arrived before him, she found a table, and it wasn't until a waiter, a handsome man around her own age whose name she struggled to remember, came to take her drink order that she remembered she'd wanted to ask the Captain for the name of that tea.

"I had tea with the Captain in his ready room this morning," she said, barely managing not to blush at the intimacy those words suggested. He'd been pleasant and helpful, the exact opposite of what their first meeting would suggest, and she was beginning to believe that maybe he'd just been having a bad day when he'd been so rude to her. "I didn't get the name of it, but --"

"The Captain made you tea?"

"Yes."

"Tell me he didn't try to convince you it was cardamom."

"No, he didn't tell me what it was, actually."

"You don't want to know. Trust me. They never actually proved that stuff doesn't remove paint."

Rose barked a laugh. "I kind of liked it."

She couldn't tell whether he looked impressed or scared. "Well, that makes you the second person in this quadrant of the universe. Would you like a cup? We keep some of the leaves in stasis for the Captain. It's slightly more palatable fresh than the replicated version."

"Would he mind? I mean, if it's his private stores..." The waiter shrugged and Rose decided if he wasn't concerned then neither was she. "Yeah, I'll take some."

"Will that be all for you?"

"For now, yeah."

The waiter had returned to the kitchen before she remembered his name: Ianto Jones. The only reason it had stood out to her in the first place was because she'd found it an interesting coincidence that there were three unrelated Joneses on board. A few seconds later he stuck his head out the kitchen door again, this time accompanied by two others in chef's whites. Rose waved to them as they stared, then giggled when they quickly disappeared again.

Mickey arrived a few minutes later and dropped down into the chair next to her. "Hey, babe. You would never believe the condition of those engines. I mean, I knew the Captain took them seriously, but they don't just run, they purr. The guys were telling me that a few years back he personally commanded the repair crew after a freak accident damaged them. And then, after the ship had limped to an outpost, he sent everyone who didn't have engineering training on shore leave while he stayed aboard with the ones who did and the outpost's crew and rebuilt them almost from scratch."

Ianto returned with her tea and placed the mug on the table in front of her.

"Oh, tea. Perfect," Mickey said and picked it up. Then, before she or Ianto could voice a warning, he took a sip. Rose lifted the cup from his limp hand and placed it back on the table when he started to cough. "Ugh! What the heck is that stuff?"

"Trimocor Tea," Ianto offered.

Mickey ran the back of his hand over his mouth as he glared at Ianto. "That's tea?"

"Well, the Trimocor people had never had tea, but the description of it fascinated them, so they kind of... did the best they could with what was available."

Rose picked up the cup again and held it in her hands so that she could breathe it in. It only took a second to realize that she'd been expecting the lighter notes of the Captain's scent as well, and it seemed somewhat lacking without them.

"And people actually drink it?" Mickey asked with the hopefulness of someone suspecting they were the butt of a prank.

"Certainly. Not many around here, but it's considered a delicacy on several planets in the Proxima Antini system."

"It's vile."

Ianto nodded without missing a beat. "Yes, it is."

Rose took a sip. The brew was lighter than the ones she'd had from the replicator, but still robust. "I like it."

"You are crazy, babe."

With a slight hum, Rose put the mug down. "Can I see a menu?"

Ianto handed her a padd and she skimmed through the choices for a moment before handing it back. "Turkey club, please."

"And you, sir?"

Mickey waved away the padd Ianto was offering him. "I think I've lost my appetite. I'll let you know if I change my mind."

"So," he started once they were alone, "how was your morning?"

"Well, I spent the --"

"Oh, wait, let me tell you about Franklin. So, he was crawling around in the Jeffries tubes and one of the other guys had set up..."

Rose let him talk, nodding and smiling at the points where they seemed appropriate, as she watched the now constant stream of people coming into the Galley. She sat a little straighter when the Captain himself walked through the archway. He looked more relaxed than she'd seen him so far, and when he walked over to the closest waitress and smiled at her, Rose's stomach churned. He'd mentioned having lunch plans, but with his sister on board, it had never occurred to her that those plans might be with someone else.

The waitress' name was Lynda Moss, Rose's mind not-so-helpfully supplied when the other woman turned enough that she could get a good look at her, and she smiled back up at the Captain before hurrying into the kitchen. Rose chided herself. She shouldn't have been surprised that he was seeing someone. By all accounts, he was brilliant - even Mickey thought so - and she'd seen for herself that morning how much he cared about his crew in the details he remembered and the praises he'd heaped upon them.

He waited where Lynda had left him, looking over the crew members going to lunch in the same way Rose had done before his arrival. Only a few of them glanced in his direction, though, and those that did merely nodded at him as they went about their business. He nodded back and seemed to be above it all except that Rose could see the tension returning to his shoulders with every passing moment. She wondered why Lynda was making him wait. Maybe she was busy primping. Or maybe she didn't realize what an outsider the Captain really was.

Then he looked above the heads of the people passing closest to him and his eyes locked with hers. In an instant, the tension dissolved and his expression cleared, and he started making his way through the crowd to get to her.


	5. Chapter 5

He was halfway across the Galley before he remembered that the plan was to not involve himself any further with the Lieutenant, yet her pull was stronger than any gravity well he'd ever encountered, and he wasn't sure he could have escaped if he tried. Besides, it was too late to turn around even if he wanted to, her eyes hadn't left him since he'd noticed her sitting there. In fact, she seemed to be completely oblivious to Commander Smith next to her, even to the point of not noticing when he stopped talking and tried to get her attention.

Unfortunately, as Jon arrived at her table, he realized that he had no idea what to say to her. He'd seen her not two hours previous, and though he'd read the announcement she'd sent out to the crew before coming to the Galley, there was no reason for him to comment in it.

"Captain," Commander Smith stood up, and Jon reluctantly shifted his attention to the other man. "I wanted to compliment you on the state of the engines, sir. They're the finest I've ever had the pleasure of working on."

"Thank you, Commander." He turned back to the Lieutenant and was trying to come up with something to say when Smith spoke again.

"If you've got a moment, I'd like to talk to you about the power conduits in the port nacelle. I really think we can eke a bit more out of it."

Jon doubted there was anything more the port nacelle could give that he hadn't already personally tweaked. A part of him wanted to argue the point with Smith, but he hadn't walked over to be drawn into an engineering argument. "Send me your proposal and I'll look it over."

"Yes, sir."

"Lieutenant --"

"Here you go, Captain," Lynda said as she arrived at his elbow. "Sorry about the wait. It was just coming out of the oven."

Jon took the clamshell container of Larish pie from her with a "Thanks" and looked back in time to see Lieutenant Tyler's eyes widen before she blushed and ducked her head. Her shoulders shook with a quiet little laugh and then she looked up again, amusement dancing in her eyes. Jon knew the question was written on his face when she smiled self-deprecatingly, her cheeks coloring a second time, but aside from that she offered no reason for her embarrassment.

He still didn't know what he was going to say, but was planning to open his mouth and trust whatever words came out of it before something else interrupted them when Ianto appeared with a sandwich that he placed in front of her. Jon nearly groaned aloud.

"There you go, one turkey club. Tea's still okay? It hasn't tried to kill you yet?"

Her hand curled protectively around the mug. "It's lovely, thank you."

Jon looked between Ianto, the Lieutenant, and the mug of tea. To the best of his knowledge, there was only one tea onboard that Ianto despised to that level. She'd ordered Trimocor.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"No, I'm fine."

"And you, Captain?"

He gestured with the to-go box. "I'm good."

"Still nothing for you, Commander?"

On the edge of his peripheral vision, Jon saw the Commander shake his head. "I was just leaving. Thanks."

"Mickey --"

"I remembered something I need to do in Engineering. I'll talk to you later." Smith leaned down and pressed a kiss to the Lieutenant's cheek, and Jon felt his jaw lock. He stopped himself from reacting further by reminding himself that they'd repeatedly denied romantic involvement and even Donna's telepathic impression of their relationship was that of siblings, but he couldn't help the lightning bolt of jealousy that rocketed through him. "Captain."

Jon nodded as the Commander walked away.

"I feel like I should stand," she said once they were alone, before he even had a chance to open his mouth.

"What?"

"Well, you're very tall and you're not going to sit, so conversation is bound to get uncomfortable." She was teasing him again, the tip of her tongue tucked in the corner of her smile.

"I could sit."

"You could, but you won't."

"You seem very sure of that."

She nodded. "You get your food to go because you figure if you're going to eat alone you might as well do it on your terms."

"Is that your professional opinion, Counselor?" he teased back, because there was no way he was going to let her see exactly how accurate a statement that was. If he was being honest, he was usually content to grab a nutrient bar and a quick mug of tea in his ready room; the only reason he'd come to the Galley today was because the special was one of his favorites.

"It is."

"You've missed a detail," he said and her left eyebrow rose. "If I sat with you I wouldn't be eating alone."

"If that were true, I'd be honored, because I don't think that's something you say of many people you have occasion to dine with."

And she was right again. While he knew it was just her training talking and that nothing had changed, the temptation of having someone understand him on that level was intoxicating. Forgetting every reason why he shouldn't, he leaned down, his heart beginning to race as she straightened in her seat until there was only about a foot and a half separating them. "You know, as we speak we're passing close enough to a plasma storm that with the right level of magnification it'll seem like you can reach out and touch it."

Her eyes flashed with interest and suddenly there was only one metaphor that could accurately describe what was happening: He was scrambling to hold onto the top of a slippery slope and she was waiting at the bottom.

"And where," she asked, her voice dipping into a register he remembered from his visions, and his body tightened in response, "might one see such a spectacle?"

He shrugged. "I know a place."

"Is that an offer, Captain?"

"It is."

She looked down at her sandwich and they both laughed when they noticed that sometime during their conversation someone had placed a to-go box beside her plate. She quickly packed up her food, and this time when he offered her his hand it was deliberate. And when she took it, excitement and arousal flowed through her like an electric current that worked its way up his arm and into his own veins. When she didn't immediately let go, Jon turned his hand to place them palm to palm and nearly moaned at the feeling of her warm, soft fingers sliding between his, something he'd experienced over and over in his visions. She smiled up at him when her fingers locked into place and he hurried them out of the Galley, knowing even before his first step that she'd keep up with him easily.

She watched him with curiosity when they stepped into the lift and he ordered it to go to deck 14, but she didn't pepper him with questions, simply stood there trustingly, one hand wrapped firmly around his.

As expected, with Sarah Jane on the bridge and everyone else at lunch, the Astrometrics lab was deserted. He guided her over to a section of floor and put his food down. "I hope the floor's okay. This place isn't exactly designed for dining comfort."

"I don't mind. Is it okay for us to be in here?"

"It's my ship. I should think so." He reluctantly released her hand. "You have a seat. I'll be right back."

She sat and took out her food as he made quick work of the commands on the control panel, and she gasped when what had looked like a normal window flickered and the display screen switched to a view of the plasma storm at maximum magnification.

"It's gorgeous."

"Yes, it is," he agreed as he settled next to her.

She offered him a huge smile and picked up half of her sandwich. On the screen spikes of red extended out from a vaguely circular centralized shape, lightning arcing from one tip to the next and sometimes off into the blackness of space around it.

* * /\ * *

The Captain ate in silence, something she'd expected, but she had not expected how comfortable and natural it would be to sit beside him. She didn't once feel the need to fill the silence with idle chatter, which was probably a good thing since her thoughts were focused on how the whole invitation to their private picnic had been flirtatious, culminating in him taking her hand, a remarkably intimate gesture for someone who at their first meeting only a few days earlier had claimed to be barely tolerating her presence. Maybe he really had been looking at her legs last night outside of her quarters after all.

She looked away from the viewscreen to see him looking down at her. "This was a great idea, Captain. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"You're welcome," he murmured.

For one charged moment neither of them moved, then he backed away and reclined, resting his elbows on a riser behind them. Her first thought was that if he believed for one second the pose would put her off, he was sadly mistaken; instead, seeing his long, lean body stretched out like that brought to mind even more intimate things they could be doing. Her cheeks burning, she turned back to the viewscreen, hating that since she'd finished eating she no longer had anything to do with her hands. The extra moment that chewing would grant her to think about something to say would not be unappreciated either, since it didn't seem like he was inclined to start a conversation.

She finally settled on, "Do you do this often?"

However, it wasn't until the words hit her own ears that Rose realized the question sounded a lot like _Do you make a habit of seducing new crew members?_ and she began to fervently pray he wouldn't take it that way. Everything about this proclaimed his interest but also spoke of an unwillingness to overstep where he wasn't welcome. She wasn't a fool, she knew that his entire career could go up in flames if a member of the crew took exception to his advances and reported him to his superiors, which probably meant that he was moving faster with her than he was comfortable with. She'd been pursued before, and it had always felt like she was the prize in some sort of sick contest she'd never signed up for. Whatever this was, it was magnetic and intense - and she hadn't even so much as kissed him yet!

The silence stretched out and her palms had started to sweat before he finally answered. "No, if I have the time I usually watch from my ready room."

"I bet that's not nearly as nice as this."

"Well," he said, shifting as he sat up, "I must admit my sofa's more comfortable."

"This isn't so bad." She patted the floor as she turned to face him again, intending to make a teasing comment about the company making up for the lack of comfort, but the words died on her lips.

He'd put himself so close that if she wanted she could easily rest her head on his shoulder, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. This time he didn't move, backwards or forwards, just waited. After a moment, Rose slowly leaned closer to him until their lips brushed together, lingering just long enough to taste him beneath hints of the Larish pie he'd eaten. She stayed close when she ended the kiss, silently giving him permission to reciprocate. His mouth fell open as he worked his jaw, but still he didn't move.

When it became painfully obvious that somehow she'd misunderstood, Rose sat up, keeping her eyes trained on her lap. "I'm sorry. I thought -- it doesn't matter what I thought. That was incredibly unprofessional of me, and I can promise it won't happen again. You'd be well within your rights to --"

A warm, rough hand cupped her cheek and tilted her face up enough for her to see him hovering inches away. And then he kissed her. There was no hesitation in his actions as he coaxed her mouth open, and he seemed to instinctively know the perfect places to stroke his tongue to draw an embarrassing sequence of whimpers and moans from her. They were both breathing hard when he caught her bottom lip between his and tugged gently before letting go, dropping a tiny buss on the tip of her nose, and then resting his forehead against hers.

He held her there as they both calmed, stroking the side of his thumb across her cheek.

"Bridge to the Captain."

With a sigh, his hand fell away from her face and he tapped his combadge. "Go ahead."

"We need you up here, sir, we're receiving a distress signal. We're trying to establish contact."

"Understood."

His brow furrowed, an apology written in his eyes, he stood without a word and left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Jon didn't know enough expletives to express how he felt about what had just happened - and he spoke a dozen languages fluently and could swear in another dozen. Despite every reason he had for why getting involved with the Lieutenant was a terrible idea, he'd still let himself get close to her, he'd still kissed her. She was perfect, soft and sweet, responsive and giving, and that one moment had been bliss. The feelings he'd picked up from her had been overwhelmingly positive, so it would have been easy to forget himself completely - forget that they were in a place where they would soon be discovered - and do more, hold her, touch her, claim her the way his mind was screaming at him to do. Therefore, his self-recriminations were a mixture of _Why did you do that?_ and _Why did you stop?_

It was enough to drive him mad if he let it, so he tried to put it out of his mind as he stepped out of the lift.

"Captain on the bridge."

"What's our status?" he asked, and Harriet vacated his chair.

"Sir, we've managed to open an audio channel to the vessel. We're working on video right now."

"Put me through." From her seat at the helm, Lieutenant Pond nodded and opened the connection. "This is Captain Jonathan Noble of the USS Tardis. Who am I addressing?"

 _"Captain Noble,"_ a breathless voice replied, _"it's good to hear your voice. This is Acting Captain Ronne of the merchant vessel Lady of Cirri."_

"What's your situation?"

_"Life support's down to 20 percent. We've already lost more than a dozen crew members including the Captain and First Mate. We were venting atmosphere, but I think that's under control."_

Lieutenant Pond turned in her chair. "Captain, we're ready with the video feed."

"On screen."

The viewscreen lit up to show a plump young man in a torn uniform. Jon didn't recognize his species, but his skin had a gray-ish pallor and there were small ridges on both sides of his face. The bridge surrounding him was covered in debris, and the only powered control panel on the far wall behind him seemed to be blinking randomly.

 _"Ah, Captain,"_ Ronne wheezed. _"It is even better to see you."_

"Likewise."

Jon glanced over his shoulder when the lift doors opened to see Rose step onto the bridge, and he looked away again quickly, his heart thudding in his chest, before her searching eyes could find him. He still hadn't figured out what excuse he was going to give her for the temporary insanity that had gripped him in Astrometrics. 

"Captain Ronne, if you'll transmit over a list of necessities, I'll have my crew start gathering supplies."

The alien nodded and pushed a few buttons on the control panel in front of him. _"I'm sending it over now."_

"Captain," came Rose's voice from near the lift door and his whole body tensed, "I need to speak with you."

He’d thought he'd have more time to come up with an explanation, at least until the current crisis was over; he certainly hadn't expected her to follow him onto the bridge to speak with him. His mind spinning, he tried to keep his thoughts focused on the more urgent task at hand.

"Not now, Lieutenant."

"It's important."

"I'm sure it can wait."

"We're receiving the list," Lieutenant Pond said, and Jon stepped closer to her so that he could read it over her shoulder.

"You're in luck, Captain Ronne," he said as the list scrolled across the display, "we have a lot of this on board."

Ronne smiled, an awkward thing that suggested maybe his species wasn't familiar with the motion, relief evident in his eyes. _"That's very good to hear, Captain."_

"Captain," Rose said again, "I need to speak with you privately."

"Lieutenant Tyler, be quiet or I will have you removed from the bridge," he barked without looking at her before continuing his conversation. "We'll need a few minutes to gather the supplies and beam over."

"Of course."

He nodded at Lieutenant Pond to cut the communication.

As soon as the viewscreen went dark, Harriet appeared at his elbow. She nodded to where Rose stood biting her thumbnail. "Captain, she says it's vital she speak with you before the mission."

Jon huffed. Fine, if she wanted to do this now he'd accommodate her. "Lieutenant Tyler, my ready room."

"You absolute knob!" she shouted the instant the door closed behind her. He'd hoped to make it to his desk before they started, but it appeared she had other plans. He turned to face her.

"Stand down, Lieutenant." If he'd thought her angry before, he was forced to mentally redefine the word when her jaw slammed shut and her eyes flashed dangerously. He didn't dare touch her now, her emotions might well be enough to render him unconscious again. "Whatever you think happened between us does not give you the right to come onto my bridge and interrupt an important communication like that. Anything you have to say can wait until my business is concluded."

"How dare you," she hissed, no less angry, but her voice tightly controlled. "I am trying to save the lives of the entire away team, yourself included - because you and I both know you're going to jump at the opportunity to play the hero - and quite possibly that of every person onboard this ship. And you're treating me like some -- some overly clingy love-sick teenager. Just because --"

"Lieutenant Tyler, that is enough!"

She stilled and glared at him as she bit out the words, "Yes, sir."

* * /\ * *

Rose turned and hurried out of the room without waiting for him to dismiss her. Commander Jones took one look at her and the instant sympathy on the older woman's face was almost enough to crack the mask of anger she was using to hold back the tears. It didn't help that she could feel a dozen other pairs of curious eyes on her so she kept her gaze tightly focused on the woman in front of her.

"Commander, they're pirates and they're putting out a signal to fool our sensors into thinking their ship has been damaged, so you'll have to run a deep scan to see the truth. It's a pretty common trick in some quadrants; I didn't think it had made it this close to home. Don't let him beam an away team over there until you can prove it to him."

"Lieutenant --" Commander Jones started and Rose could hear the dismissive tone clearly.

"I'd cite regulations for you, Commander, but I'm sure you don't need me to. Due to reasons I am not able to go into, the Captain is not thinking clearly, and as the ship's Counselor I am ordering you to run a deep scan on that ship and await the results before you allow him to proceed with this "mercy" mission. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Rose heard from behind her, because she was already headed towards the lift, trusting that Commander Jones would bow before regulations, and had no intention of stopping for anything less than complete agreement.

"Deck ten," she ordered when the lift doors closed.

The gall of him, what did he think, that she'd chased him onto the bridge to extract a declaration of affection or, worse, to have a lover's quarrel? Sure, they'd shared one kiss, but even him running off without a word afterward did not justify that kind of behavior. 

When the lift doors opened, she stormed down the corridor to her quarters and was amazed to see that the clock on her end table claimed it was only a little after 1300 hours. It seemed like a lifetime had passed between leaving the Captain's ready room that morning and kissing him in Astrometrics after lunch, when in reality it had only been about three hours.

Now that she was in the privacy of her quarters, her anger was slipping away, leaving her vulnerable to emotions she wasn't ready to deal with. Had this occurred at any other time, she would have had plenty of work to throw herself into. Usually there was a waiting list of crew members who wanted to see her, who would be happy to slip into even the most undesirable timeslot if one became available, but because the position of Counselor on board the Tardis was so new, she hadn't yet gotten any responses to the schedule she'd sent out. Hoping that would change soon, Rose opened one of her trunks and pulled out an easel and her apron. Painting had always calmed her, and maybe it would also soothe the irritation caused by the fact that as the ship's Counselor, she definitely knew better than to try to ignore her problems. However, talking them out with the source at that moment was incredibly inadvisable. Taking out her paints and a blank canvas, she set to work.

A chime at her door pulled her out of a trance-like state some time later to discover an already very familiar pair of blue eyes staring back at her from the canvas. On the floor, leaning against the legs of the easel, were two other nearly identical copies, each one showing a different emotion. She swore as the chime sounded again and quickly pulled a cover over the easel. The slightly hollow feeling in her stomach told her that quite some time had passed since lunch.

"I'm coming." She thumbed open the door and nearly thumbed it closed again at the sight of the Captain waiting in the corridor expectantly. He was dirty and his brow sported a sheen of sweat. She crossed her arms and found it very easy to call up her anger with him, so maybe painting hadn't calmed her as much as she'd hoped. "Can I help you?"

He avoided her eyes as he rolled his shoulders beneath his jacket. "The pirates have been taken care of."

"Is that supposed to be some sort of apology? Because if so, that's not good enough."

"May I come in?" he asked, his gaze still trained on the ground.

As she moved aside to let him pass, Rose glanced at the easel to make sure the cover hadn't spontaneously evaporated.

"I was out of line," he said as he turned to face her, and Rose remembered that apologies were not his strong suit. Considering that, she was fortunate he'd come to her door at all, much less admitted that he was wrong. "Your request to speak with me was perfectly reasonable."

"For the record, I am capable of separating my work from my personal life. And if you're standing on the bridge negotiating with a hostile alien it's not my personal life I'm going to be concerned with."

"And I should have trusted that. I'm willing to put a note in your file about this. I can't give you a commendation for it, but --"

"I'm not interested in that. I don't do my job because I want recognition."

"Right." He started for the door but stopped when she spoke again.

"And what about the other thing?"

It might not have been obvious to someone without her training, but his whole body stiffened. "What about it?"

"Which man are you, Captain? Are you the one I met when I first arrived or the one I watched a plasma storm with? I was so sure I had misjudged you, and I was glad. _Glad_. But now I'm not so sure."

"The first one," he said, the words a knife to her heart.

She swallowed back her emotions. "Alright. Then, as this ship's Counselor, I must inform you that there's a name for what you did... and there are diagnoses for the people who do it. My schedule is still open, so I could easily fit you in if you'd like to talk about it."

He hesitated a moment as though waiting for her to say something else, but she held her tongue. And when he was gone, she finally released the sob that had been building since she'd left the bridge.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a week since he'd last spoken with Donna, when she'd threatened to leave after he'd told her he had no intention of pursuing Lieutenant Tyler. They'd passed within range of a dozen "suitable" vessels in that time, but Jon knew that she was still onboard. He suspected, though there was no one he could ask because he'd also not spoken with the Lieutenant since the incident with the pirates, that the two women were spending time together. Donna had never been known for keeping her opinions to herself, so if they were, it was likely she'd already shared his entire life story with the Lieutenant and what she felt he should have done differently.

Despite being left to his own devices by both women, Jon had plenty of reminders of what he should have done differently. It seemed that the kiss he'd shared with the Lieutenant had also been the key to unlocking his vision memories. And, he quickly discovered, there was no corner of his ship he could go to escape them. His ready room, Engineering, the Galley, random corridors throughout the ship, and of course his quarters - especially his quarters - were all filled with echoes of his life with her. Apparently the two of them were a randy couple with little respect for public spaces; more than once he'd lost track of a conversation in the present because he rounded a corner into a sense-filled memory where Lieutenant Tyler's cries of passion drowned out the words being spoken. It was a wonder they ever got any work done with how much time they spent intimately entangled.

In most of the visions he was happy - and not just run of the mill happy, either, but genuinely, teeth-rottingly, disgustingly happy. He wasn't sure he'd smiled that much so far in his entire life; it was enough to make his cheeks hurt in the present. It was like that everywhere except the Bridge. The first time he set foot there after the incident with the pirates he had been forced to watch it over again, to see the shock and hurt on her face that he'd managed to avoid seeing the first time. And unlike his ready room or quarters where any number of visions could assault him, there were no other memories to take its place so every time he entered the Bridge her ghost arrived with him and the scene played out all over again.

By the time Harriet arrived in his ready room with a list of suggested crew members for a planned away mission, he was so desperate to get off the ship he didn't even look at it before telling her that he'd handle it. And it wasn't until Lieutenant Tyler arrived at the shuttle bay later that afternoon that he realized he really should have looked at the list.

"What are you doing here?" he blurted before he could think better of it.

Her eyes widened and she shifted the bag hanging from her shoulder. "I've been assigned to the team for the away mission."

"Well, what'd you go and do a thing like that for?"

"It's a negotiation, Captain," she said in that tightly controlled voice he was quickly learning to hate. "I may not be Betazoid or even Gallifreyan, but I do have extensive training on body language and problem solving."

"Don't worry about it, Rosie," Commander Harkness said as he sauntered into the shuttle bay and slipped his arm around her shoulders. "He's just giving you a hard time. Come on, let's get to our seats. I saw Amy coming up the corridor."

The Lieutenant's eyes lingered on him as she allowed Harkness to guide her away and up the ramp of the shuttle. Jon followed them, one word ringing in his ears: Rosie. The two of them settled on a bench on the starboard side and he sat opposite them, something ugly rising in him at the way Harkness kept his body turned towards the Lieutenant, his arm still around her shoulders.

Lieutenant Pond was the last one to board the shuttle, pressing the button that closed the ramp behind her. "Captain," she acknowledged and Jon nodded to her as she moved toward the pilot's seat.

Harkness looked up, surprise flitting across his features. "I didn't know you'd be joining us, Captain. I thought Commander Jones was leading this mission."

"I took over."

"Must have been pretty last minute, I just spoke to her this morning. I hope everything's alright."

"She's fine."

Harkness nodded and looked back down at Lieutenant Tyler, offering her one of his trademark smiles.

Jon wasn't fine. And he wasn't going to be.

"Alright," Lieutenant Pond called over her shoulder. "Strap in. Pre-launch checklist is completed and we are cleared for departure."

The 20 minute descent to the planet's surface was uneventful, which, considering Jon watched Harkness flirt with the Lieutenant the whole time without throwing himself across the shuttle to kill him, was a good thing. When they landed, Lieutenant Pond stayed with the shuttle while Jon, Harkness, and Lieutenant Tyler were greeted by a small delegation who lead them to the chambers where the negotiation talks would be held.

As Harkness made a quick, mostly perfunctory, sweep of the room, Jon and the Lieutenant stood off to one side. Every time Jon looked down at her, she avoided his gaze by checking on Harkness' progress, and the words he wanted to say got stuck in his throat. He knew he had no right to ask, but he wanted to know what was going on with her and Harkness and when she'd become "Rosie." However, mostly he wanted to see her teasing grin again and the way her eyes were supposed to soften when she looked at him.

"We're good here," Harkness said as he joined them again.

* * /\ * *

Over an hour into the negotiations and Rose still wasn't comfortable being in such close proximity to the Captain. The two of them sat alone on their side of the table opposite the planet's three delegates. Jack had declined to sit, claiming that he could keep a better eye on everyone if he stood at the back of the room, even though there was no chance of anyone sabotaging the negotiations, not with how much both sides stood to gain. He'd become a friend in the last few days, and Rose missed his comforting presence.

The Captain seemed tense, something she gladly would have attributed to the negotiations had he not reacted so strongly to her presence on the away team. She wasn't stupid; she knew he'd been avoiding her since his apology about the pirate incident. Everything she knew told her that he'd deceived her that day in Astrometrics, suggesting that she should be happy to have avoided an even worse fate, but without evidence that he'd done something similar in the past or a reason why he'd not continued to pursue her, she didn't believe it.

It was more than her professional curiosity being piqued. As much as she hated to admit it, her ego had taken a bruising as well. To have misjudged him so badly was part of it, yes, but primarily Rose was annoyed that she'd allowed her emotions to become involved so quickly. It would be less painful for her if she could put that whole morning behind her, but she couldn't. Even now, a week later, just being in his presence was enough to stir up feelings best ignored.

And if she dwelled on it any longer, she'd belie her own statement that she was able to separate her personal life from her work. She looked across the table at the three Mytian delegates. They were nearly identical, to the point that if they were not wearing different colored robes she would not be able to tell them apart. Starfleet was desperate to get their hands on the mining rights to an asteroid belt under their control, so the Captain had been given quite a bit of authority over the negotiation, and for the last hour he'd been trying to be fair without reaching the limits of that authority.

"I think it's a very reasonable offer," the Captain was saying.

Seated opposite him, the delegate wearing red robes, who had been introduced to them as Hono, scoffed. "Of course you think it is a good offer, Captain," he said in Jyesthimen, a language they'd agreed to use because Starfleet's universal translators could interpret it, unlike the Mytian language. "You made it."

" _Just take the offer_ ," the delegate on the left, who wore green robes and who had been introduced as Yane, blurted, and Rose immediately schooled her expression to match the Captain's one of confusion since Yane had spoken in their native tongue. It was not the first time someone had spoken in a specific language to try to hide their thoughts and intentions from her. It was also not the first time that effort had failed spectacularly. " _It's already more than we'd hoped for_."

" _Be quiet_!" Hono snapped.

" _It's fine_." Yane gestured at Rose and the Captain. " _They don't understand. I could be reciting Trilixian poetry for all they know_."

"Is everything alright?" the Captain asked.

Hono took a deep breath and turned back to them. "Yes, yes. Fine." 

The third delegate, who wore blue robes and whose name was Cida, spoke for the first time since their introduction. "Perhaps it would benefit us all if we took a brief recess."

"That sounds great. I could stretch my legs," Rose said as she stood, ignoring the utterly betrayed look the Captain shot her.

"Very well," Cida continued. "We will reconvene in... 20 minutes?"

"Perfect. I saw a garden when we came in, would it be alright if we walked around?"

"By all means."

The Captain stood at the same time as the Mytian delegates, his body tense beside her. As soon as they were alone in the room he growled. "What was that all about? We were right in the middle --"

"I'll explain. Let's go outside. We might as well take advantage of the break while we can."

Jack materialized at her side and slipped his arm through hers. Her breath caught when she noticed the Captain's eyes darken ominously, but she must have imagined it, because when she looked again they were back to normal. It was easy to put it out of her head as Jack led her outside; it was harder to convince herself that her reaction had been perfectly innocent.

When they discovered that most of the garden paths were too small for the three of them to walk side by side, Jack released her so she could speak with the Captain in the short time they had.

"I speak Mytian," she started, stopping again when he looked down at her, his mouth gaping. She then fought to stop herself from blushing, because she knew he was a hard man to impress. "Your current offer has already exceeded their expectations. Yane thinks they should accept. It wasn't explicitly stated, but it's reasonable to assume that Hono hopes to get more. You just have to hold firm."

His smile was instant and all-encompassing. "That's fantastic!"

This time she did blush, turning her face away as she struggled to get control of herself. Unfortunately - or maybe fortunately - it meant that she stopped paying attention to where she was walking, causing her to slip in a puddle of water created by a leaky hose. Her mind barely had time to register the dizzying feeling of weightlessness as her feet went out from under her before she was pressed tightly against something hard.

The Captain's scent was immediately familiar, and nevermind that she was chest to chest and hip to hip with a man she shouldn't trust that way, his arm wrapped like a vise around her waist, Rose was comforted by the security of being in his arms.

"Rose," he breathed at her ear, the one word filled with such longing that her body softened and molded against his, a needy ache developing deep in her core. He gasped and froze as she moved, his fingers digging deeper into her side as he then very slowly exhaled. She couldn't form words, could only nod when he asked, his normal baritone voice closer to bass, "Are you alright?"

He relaxed and there was a brief pause before his cheek brushed against hers as he pulled back to look at her. His eyes were nearly the color of deep space and his arm continued to hold her close, what had begun as a rescue now an embrace.

"Aww, you guys are so sweet." Rose jumped at the sound of Jack's voice; she'd completely forgotten he was behind them. "I hate to break this up, but it's time for us to get back inside."

The Captain scowled and stepped away from her, making sure she was steady on her feet before letting go. His eyes were back to crystalline blue and held a sadness the depth of which she'd only ever seen once before. Just as she was deciding what to say to him a bell rang inside the building indicating that it was indeed time to return. His jaw set firm, lips pressed tightly together, he turned back the way they'd come, hesitating as he passed Jack but saying nothing before continuing on in the direction of the negotiation room.

Watching him go, Rose felt like she couldn't breathe. What the heck had just happened? Unless that man was capable of pathological levels of deceit or suffered from an undiagnosed personality disorder, he wanted her. Yet that was twice he'd walked away without a word.

Though the fog of her thoughts, she felt Jack's hand cup her elbow and let him guide her down the path. "Come on, honey, let's finish what we're here for and then you guys can work out whatever that was later."

"I don't know what that was, Jack."

"Me either. I've known the Captain a long time and I've never seen anything like it."

They were the last to arrive in the negotiation room, and the Captain avoided her gaze as she sat down beside him.

"Where were we?" Hono asked.

"I'd made you a very generous offer."

"I wouldn't say 'very,' Captain Noble --"

"I would. You have to realize, gentlemen, I'm limited in what I can do. If you're interested in the offer, take it. If you're not, I'll go back to my superiors and tell them to find their ore elsewhere. Stop wasting my time."

Hono look appalled. Cida slowly leaned forward and looked down the table at Yane in a clear non-verbal, "What have you done?" and Yane paled. Even Rose was taken aback at the Captain's tone. She didn't dare turn around to see Jack's reaction.

"Well, I -- I --" Hono stuttered.

The Captain stood and glanced at the watch on his wrist. "The way I figure it, you've got about ten minutes until we get to our shuttle, another 30 until we're back onboard the ship, and maybe another ten after that before we leave the system. I expect your answer before then. Let's go."

Rose and Jack scrambled to follow him. They were almost to the door when Hono shouted, "We'll take it!"

"Good." The Captain stopped and called up the contract on his padd, quickly entering a few details before signing it and handing it to Jack. "I think you can handle this part. I'll meet you at the shuttle."

Rose huffed as he walked away. "What is with him?"

"I don't know." Jack threw on his most genial smile and turned back to the table. "Alright, gentlemen, I have the contract here. Who wants to sign?"

Cida insisted on reading every word of the contract - finally earning his pay, Rose thought - taking almost another hour before he was satisfied that Starfleet wasn't trying to sneak anything in under their horn-like noses. She tried not to fidget during that time, but it was difficult when her mind kept wandering back to the Captain.

Once the contract was signed and hands had been shaken, Rose and Jack made their way back to the shuttle.

"Strap in," Lieutenant Pond called to them from the pilot's seat. "We're ready to go."

Rose's heart sank as she saw the Captain sitting in the co-pilot's seat, especially when he didn't even turn to acknowledge their arrival, it becoming clearer to her by the second that while, yes, he may want her, he had no intention of acting upon it. She spent most of the trip back to the Tardis annoyed with herself that she’d allowed him to get under her skin a second time.


	8. Chapter 8

Jon dropped into the chair at his desk and let his head fall into the cradle of his hands.

There really was a Hell, and he was in it. He'd hoped, after their disastrous conversation following the attempted pirate raid, that the Lieutenant would chose to distance herself from him; but the memory of her body pressed tightly against his, warm and welcoming instead of hard and unyielding like it should have been, haunted him far more than any vision to date, to say nothing of the pulse of desire she'd felt that had briefly overwhelmed his senses. It was only by sheer luck that Harkness had interrupted them before his body could respond in kind and further betray him. 

He had to keep her as far away from him as possible. Logically, the easiest way to do that would be to transfer her away from the Tardis, but he couldn't bring himself to go through with it. Requesting a transfer after only two weeks would invite questions he didn't want to answer and potentially cause problems for her with Starfleet even though she'd done nothing wrong. Besides, she was an invaluable asset to the ship and crew, having proven herself twice over in such a brief period of time. And, he remembered belatedly, because of circumstances he still could not comprehend, if she transferred away he'd also lose his brand new Chief Engineer along with her.

As he came up with reason after reason for why she should stay, Jon was forced to admit to himself that they were all excuses; he simply did not want her to leave. Hence: Hell. A Hell of his own making, but Hell nonetheless. And there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that things could - and would - get worse.

"You look terrible."

Jon raised his head to see Donna standing on the other side of his desk. If he concentrated, he could almost ignore the translucent vision of Lieutenant Tyler where she sat on the edge of his desk between them, her hair cascading down her bare back. He couldn't see himself at all, it was early yet and his vision self was still kneeling in front of her. At least Donna hadn't shown up after that him stood. Jon didn't think he'd be able to have a conversation with her while _that_ was going on, even knowing that she couldn't see it. And it was thankfully one of the few visions that still didn't have sound. 

"I didn't hear you knock."

"That's because I didn't." Her voice turned sympathetic. "It's only going to get worse, you know that, right?"

He snorted a laugh. "Yeah, I know. What can I do for you, Ambassador?"

"I'm leaving. There's a ship passing by in about an hour that has agreed to take me most of the way home."

"Safe travels."

She nodded, her lips pursed. Then she took a deep breath and he knew what was coming even before she spoke. "Jon --"

"Donna, no --"

"Hear me out, please. Then I'll go and we never have to speak of this again."

He waved her on while between them the Lieutenant's head lolled back until he could see the tip of her nose and the way her eyes were closed in pleasure, the ends of her hair brushing against the top of the desk. He'd been wrong about the timing of the vision. He had maybe three minutes before his vision self stood and pushed back the tiny hairs that sweat had stuck to her forehead. They'd share a quick laugh and a kiss, and then she'd pull him closer, lifting her still shaky legs to rest on his hips. She'd lean back on her elbows as he started to move inside of her, one hand on her hip to hold her steady, the other between them so that his thumb could make large circles around her clit. He'd wait until she came again, his eyes memorizing every detail - _refreshing his memory_ , because somehow Jon doubted he'd ever forget how she looked in that moment - before following her over. Then the vision would fade out and Jon would have peace for the rest of the time that he was in his ready room.

"Before I met Shaun,” Donna was saying, “I knew what Grandad had told us and I thought I was prepared, but I had no idea. And then there he was and it didn't take me long to figure out that the universe had gotten it right, so right - Mom's the one who was wrong. To have one person who understands you on the deepest possible level, it is worth it, Jon, the ups, the downs, and even in your case the eventual heartache. It'd be worth it for even a fraction of a single lifetime. Because a life without ever having known that isn't worth living."

Jon smiled tightly. "Say hi to Shaun and the kids for me."

Donna lost a bit of her fire. "Please, no matter what you decide to do about her, come visit. The twins' birthday is in a couple of months; they'd love to see you."

It had been ages since he'd last seen the twins. In fact, they were probably almost -- dread stole over him at the result of his quick mental math. "How old are they going to be?"

"Eight."

"Oh, Donna."

"So, you do care," she said, her voice watery.

"Of course I care."

"Then show it," she spat. "Show them. Show me. And for heaven's sake, show Lieutenant Tyler. You don't have to be alone, Jon, you're creating that for yourself. And one day thousands of years from now, you're going to look back and regret it but we're all going to be gone."

Her voice had weakened until the last word was barely a whisper and he was by her side in an instant, one hand resting on her shoulder. "I'll try to visit for their birthday. I can't promise Starfleet won't try to pull me in a different direction, but I'll do the best I can."

"And Lieutenant Tyler?" she asked, looking up at him.

Jon sighed. "I can't. I - I just can't."

Beneath his hand her shoulder slumped. "You're a coward, Jonathan Noble."

"Yes, I am." He spun away from her and paced the length of the room, one hand pulling at his short hair. "She's twenty-four, Donna. By the time she's forty we'll look the same age. When she's eighty she'll look old enough to be my mother. Then, if I'm very very lucky, she'll live to 100 with enough of her faculties intact to remember who I am."

"Don't be daft. One hundred isn't the top end anymore. She could live a healthy, meaningful life up until 130, 140 easy."

"So, I get another thirty or forty years. It doesn't change anything. You know as well as I do what lies on the other side: madness."

"Not necessarily."

"Tell that to Mom."

"She was the exception, not the rule. Grandad's told us that I don't know how many times."

"Do you think it matters to her that she's the exception? Do you think _we_ matter to her at all?"

Donna didn't answer him immediately and silence fell over the room. Absently, he noted that the vision had finally faded away.

"I think you're living your life according to a future you have no way of knowing is the right one. And on top of that you've picked the worst case scenario to latch onto. What if you're wrong? What if that's not how it goes at all? Scientists are making new advances every day. The more long-lived species we make first contact with, the more we learn. They could find a cure for death tomorrow."

"Then I'll talk to her tomorrow."

"And what if it's not tomorrow, what if it's twenty years from now and she's happily married with a couple of kids - kids that could have been yours if you weren't such a prat? Then what? You've still lost her."

"She's not mine to lose, that's the part of this you're forgetting. Now, if I'm not mistaken, you have a ship to board."

Donna growled as she turned and left the room. Jon waited until she was gone before tapping his combadge. "Commander Jones to my ready room."

* * /\ * *

"So, you know how I was telling you about that boy that keeps hanging out in Engineering?"

"Yeah. Commander Smith's son. Luke, right?"

"That's the one. So this morning I get sick of it, right? And I figure I'll give him something to do, get him out from under my feet for a while. I give him a Deuterium cartridge and tell him to rebuild it and bring it back when he's done. He didn't even leave, Rose, he did it right there. It took him _five minutes_. I'd been waiting to work on it when I had a few _hours_ to spare. Turns out the boy's a bleeding genius. So I tell him to --" 

Rose smiled apologetically when the door chime interrupted him. "Give me one second." She opened the door and saw Commander Jones on the other side. 

"Lieutenant. Do you have a moment?" 

She looked back at Mickey with the question in her eyes and he stood up. "I'll go. I'll talk to you later." 

"How can I help you, Commander?" Rose asked once they were alone, and in answer the Commander handed her a padd. 

"What do you know about the Arrenite uprising on Sigaul III?" 

Rose looked down at the padd to see an illustration of Sigaul III at the top with geographical data charted out below it. "Just the basics. The Arrenites objected to the existing planetary regime and started a civil war that lasted more than a dozen years. They succeeded, but not before their leader was killed in battle. His son became the new ruler. That was four - no, by now it's been five years ago." 

It was hard not to preen under the Commander's approving gaze, but she managed. 

"Very good. It's less commonly known that the boy was only sixteen when he assumed the throne. And, despite his youth, he possessed none of his father's hot-headedness, so they've lived in relative peace since then. However, Starfleet has received a communication which suggested that's about to come to an end and requested aid. We're to evaluate the situation and assist if we can - without getting ourselves embroiled in a planetary civil war." 

"That seems like a tall order, ma'am."

"I have a lot of confidence in you, Lieutenant. Your shuttle leaves at 0600." 

"Thank you, ma'am."

She arrived at the shuttle bay the next morning to see the Captain speaking with Lieutenant Pond. When the rest of the away team arrived and he began the mission briefing, she realized that she’d been wrong in assuming that Commander Jones would be leading the mission. As he spoke, nothing in her power could stop her mind from wandering. 

He was a puzzle she was itching to solve. And, she hated to admit even to herself, another part of her itched as well. Her dreams had become inundated with images of Jon Noble: the feeling of his body pressed tightly against hers, his arms holding her close, his voice, rough in her ear, and that kiss - that one glorious kiss. She'd gone beyond simply remembering and had moved on to outright fantasizing about what it would be like to have him continue for once and touch her - really touch her - with his calloused fingertips and his very talented lips.

She wanted him desperately. But after their last few interactions, there was no way she was going to do anything about it.

"Lieutenant Tyler," his voice broke through her thoughts, "are you coming with us or are you going to sit there daydreaming all day?"

She looked around to see that everyone else had already boarded the shuttle. The Captain looked less than pleased.

And she was stuck with him. Again.


	9. Chapter 9

The room they entered was vaguely circular in shape. It was well lit by floor to ceiling windows which covered three-quarters of the walls and offered a breathtaking view of a nearby mountain range. Guards stationed around the room paid them little mind, as did the few women who moved around carrying various foods and drink. Seated on the far side of the table which nearly filled the room was a thin man with almost bird-like features who stood as they approached. 

"Governor Arren, I am Captain Jon Noble of the USS Tardis. We got here as quickly as we could."

"Good morning, Captain Noble.” He stepped closer, his odd yellow eyes lingering curiously on Rose where she stood slightly behind the Captain. “And who is this?”

The Captain turned and Rose stepped forward. “My ship’s counselor, Lieutenant Rose Tyler.”

Arren extended a hand and Rose took it, moving with him when he brought it to his lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. “Welcome. I am Lo Arren. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, have a seat."

Once they were seated, the Captain waved away a woman who stopped by his chair to offer him refreshments. Rose, however, accepted a small plate of berries and a cup of dark liquid.

“I’ll be upfront with you, Governor, Starfleet doesn’t usually involve itself in intraplanetary relations, but in this matter there’s concern it will affect Sigaul’s participation in the Federation. We were not given much information, but we’d like to help however we can.”

“And I appreciate that, Captain. Your concerns are warranted. I’m afraid the matter is quite delicate and could result in, at best, a complete overthrow of my government and at worst, my death.”

The Captain leaned closer. “Do you suspect a traitor in your midst?”

Arren shook his head. "Actually, the problem is not nearly so complicated. I wish to marry and there is resistance to the bride I've chosen."

Beside her, the Captain’s body stiffened. 

"What kind of resistance?" Rose asked, picking up the conversation when the Captain remained silent for several seconds.

“I am Ettel. Mira, my intended, is Gerbre. We are… let’s just say it would be unlikely for two more dissimilar species to evolve on the same planet. The Gerbre are a proud people and the peace we have with them is tentative. I had hoped anticipation of this union would improve relations; however, it appears to have done exactly the opposite.”

The Captain moved for the first time in several minutes, thrusting his chair away from the table as he jumped to his feet. “You dragged a Federation vessel across three systems for -- for _domestics_?”

Rose gasped. Arren stood as well and met the Captain’s indignation with his own. 

“It is not merely _domestics_ , Captain. My entire planet’s government hangs in the balance. The faction that was in power before had enslaved and murdered thousands of Gerbre. My father gave his life to free them in the hopes that there would be peace between us, but the Gerbre now see only our soft skin. Between the Ettel who will not stand to have a Gerbre in such a position of power and the Gerbre who oppose the marriage on principle, I am fast running out of supporters.”

“I wish you luck, Governor, but this is not a Federation matter. The --”

A wall behind the Captain opened, revealing a cleverly hidden door, and Rose bit back a gasp as a six foot tall gemstone walked into the room. Humanoid in shape and hairless, it was darker than onyx, the parts of it that were uncovered by the simple toga it wore shimmered in the sunlight. 

By the way Arren’s face softened, there was no doubt in Rose’s mind that this was Mira, even before he met it halfway and carefully threaded his fingers in between what passed for its digits.

“Captain Noble, Lieutenant Tyler, this is Mira O’r.”

Mira inclined its head. “Thank you for coming to our assistance,” it said in a voice that was just as dark as it was.

Stunned, the Captain inclined his head as well, but Mira had already turned to Arren and the two were quietly conversing.

“Captain --”

His whole body stiffened and he turned to look at her. “Lieutenant, you know as well as I do that this kind of politics is not the Federation’s jurisdiction.”

“You said yourself that an exception could be made if it affected Sigaul III’s inclusion in the Federation. This could cause another civil war. Do we really want twelve more years of that when action here and now could prevent it? And then what happens if the Ettel who would rather enslave the Gerbre return to power? Or if the Gerbre win and they withdraw from the Federation entirely because it’s full of soft-skins?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “This planet is not vital enough to the Federation --”

“I can see that your Federation sent the wrong ship to our aid, Captain,” Arren spoke over him. “But it is good to know where we stand. You can see yourselves out. I thank you for your time.”

“My time? You’ve wasted my time with this… this _farce_. A political chess move, that’s all this is. And it’s blowing up in your face, so you tried calling for help.”

“Farce? My life --” his grip tightened on Mira’s hand, “-- my _love_ is not a farce. You’re no better than those here who would separate us.”

“Love,” the Captain scoffed, and, despite everything playing out in front of her, Rose’s heart ached at the disbelief in his voice. “To what end? You’re completely incompatible. Don’t think I don’t notice how careful you’re both being.” He turned to Mira. “How long until you cut him? How long until you crush him?”

“I would rather grind myself to dust than hurt him.”

“But you won’t have a choice, will you? One accident, that’s all, and he’ll be taken from you. And then what will you have?”

“Knowledge, Captain,” this from Arren. “Knowledge that I made a _choice_ to be with Mira despite the risks. Knowledge that I believed _our love_ was worth it. And the memory of that love no matter how long it lasted.”

The Captain paled, his mouth moving soundlessly for a moment. Rose reached for him and saw the slight rim of red around his eyes before the world exploded.

* * /\ * *

Jon became aware of things in stages. First, the howling of wind, the cracking and crashing of pieces of the building around them, and the thudding of boots. Second, the feeling of Rose, tucked perfectly within the circle of his body. She was breathing normally but still unconscious. Third, Mira, lying a few feet in front of him, holding Arren in much the same way. Fourth, the sheen of dust and debris that covered everything, including them. Fifth, the large gash in Mira’s shoulder and the bloody wound on Arren’s forehead.

He reached for his combadge. “Tardis, four to beam up. And alert medical. We’ve got wounded.”

The world shimmered and then solidified into the transporter room at the same time the door slid open and Martha rushed in, flanked by two nurses. Her eyes widened, though he couldn’t tell which of the beings on the platform had caused that reaction, but she never slowed, pointing Rory towards Mira and Arren while she approached him and Rose.

He tried to sit up, but she held him down with nothing more than a light touch on his shoulder. With a gesture from her, the nurse beside her opened the medical kit in her hands and offered her a scanner. After a quick check of the settings, she ran it over him from head to toe as she talked. “Talk to me, Captain. What happened down there?”

“Bomb, if I had to guess. There was no warning.”

Martha hummed and read the results on the scanner. “You’re fine, as usual. But I’m going to need you to let go of the Lieutenant so I can scan her, too.”

The final thing that he became aware of was that he still clutched Rose to him as though she was vital to his continued health, his leg curled over hers and his arm tight across her abdomen.

Reluctantly, he released her, and though he normally couldn't wait for Martha to be done with him so he could remove himself from her care, this time he didn't move when she adjusted the settings on the scanner and passed it over Rose's body. 

“Shouldn't she be conscious by now?” he asked. 

Martha looked at the scanner when it finished, but before she could answer, Rose groaned and reached up to touch her head.

“Lieutenant, how do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a freighter.”

“The Captain says it might have been a bomb.”

“That sounds about right. There --” She gasped. “The Captain!”

Jon leaned forward and rested his upper body against her back as his hand sought out hers. “I’m here.”

She relaxed into him, her hand matching his desperate grip, and it took him a second to realize that the intense feeling of relief he felt wasn't just the external emotion he was picking up from her. His eyes slid closed, but not before he caught the smirk forming on Martha's lips. 

“Arren and Mira, are they…”

It was the first time in several minutes that Jon remembered the Lieutenant hadn’t been the only person with him when the bomb went off. He looked up in time to see Arren lying on a biobed as it floated out of the transporter room, Mira lumbering beside it.

“Rory’s looking after them,” Martha informed her, her trust in the head nurse implicit in the way she hadn’t once turned to check on him. “Your scan says you're clear, but I'm prescribing rest for both of you.”

“There’s no time to rest,” the Lieutenant said as she tried to sit up, and Jon felt her flash of annoyance when both he and Martha held her in place. “They're going to need our help now more than ever.”

Martha's noise of disgust was quite eloquent. “You're as bad as him. No, Lieutenant, no more today. You’ve just barely avoided being _blown up_ , you can take twelve hours to rest. Doctor’s orders. Besides, nothing’s going to happen until I examine your friends and clear them.” She held up a hand to forestall any protests. “And I promise I won’t do that until morning at least.”

Jon held his breath, waiting for the inevitable protest, wanting, despite how inadvisable it was, to stroke his thumb across the back of her hand. And then he felt it, a wave of disappointment and resignation.

“Yeah. Alright.”

Martha looked as relieved as Jon felt. “Good. Check in with me in the morning at the latest or at any time if you start to feel poorly.” She looked between them as they nodded their agreement. “And when I say ‘rest’ I mean rest.”

His mouth was open and moving before he realized what she meant and he just barely managed to close it again without making a sound. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough to stop his hand from clenching around the Lieutenant’s in surprise, and that was when she caught on. Her embarrassment was quick and hot, and chased by her now familiar arousal.

With a deep breath, he lowered his head to her shoulder. And was completely unprepared for her to release his hand and pull away from him.

“That won’t be a problem.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose-Nebula did some AMAZING fanart for this story!!! Thank you, hon!

Sure that her face was burning, Rose stood, her body tingling everywhere he’d been touching her. She didn’t trust herself to take the hand the Captain offered to assist her, afraid of what might happen if she did. Ignoring the confusion that stole over Dr. Jones’ face, she left the transporter room.

‘Rest’ didn’t necessarily mean sleep, but it did mean she could get away with sequestering herself in her quarters until morning. Once there, paint flew like her thoughts. The Captain made no sense. He denied any true interest in her with his words, but his body seemed to act on its own, reaching for her and holding her like something precious. It was a constant push and pull, but the worst part was that every time he pulled, she went willingly. Her heart needed protection, but she was unable to give it.

Hours later, she fell into bed, exhausted, paint-splattered, and no closer to any sort of resolution.

In the morning, she visited Arren and Mira in sickbay. Arren had spent a few hours in a medically induced coma so Dr. Jones could make sure that he didn’t have any brain trauma to go along with the gash on his forehead, but he was up and moving around when Rose arrived. Mira had not fared so well. A chunk was missing from its shoulder. It insisted there was no pain and that it would heal in time, but its mobility was limited.

Arren's mood as he stalked around sickbay railing about insurgents and the innocent lives that had been lost brought to mind the stories Rose had read about his father. It took all of her training and Mira’s intervention to calm him enough to even consider a peaceful resolution. Despite her fears that the Captain would interfere, Rose offered the Tardis as neutral ground for peace talks. She then spent the rest of the week in closed door meetings with the Sigaul III government and representatives from both the Gerbre and the other Ettel faction. To her surprise, the Captain did not interfere; in fact, he did not make one single appearance at the negotiations.

No one, not even Rose, left the table completely happy, but as she saw the delegates back to their shuttles, she was hopeful that the seeds of peace she had helped to plant would be nourished and grow. Then she steeled herself as she went to make her report, all the while hoping that the Captain would not be in his ready room.

“ _Come in_.”

When the door slid open, Rose learned that apparently a four day absence was enough to have her thirsty for the sight of him. He was sitting on the sofa, one ankle crossed on the opposite knee, so engrossed in the datapadd in his hands that he didn’t even look up when she entered. His right hand rested against the side of his face, two fingers near his temple and two curled downward. As she watched, the tip of his pinky finger dragged along his bottom lip, exposing the wet underside.

She tried to focus. “The delegates have returned to the surface.”

From across the room, she saw him stop breathing. He lifted his head to shoot a glance towards his desk, but Rose looked and couldn’t see anything out of place. Only after his chest started to rise and fall again did he look at her.

“Good. Everything was resolved to your satisfaction?”

“Yes, sir.” She waited but he didn’t say anything. “I’m prepared to give you a formal report.”

He waved dismissively. “I’ll read whatever you send me.”

Annoyance flared. “No matter how you feel about it, this was the right thing to do.”

“I know.”

“Those people -- what?”

His expression softened, his lips quirking as though they _wanted_ to smile, but ultimately he didn’t. “I said ‘I know’. You were right.” 

He leaned forward to place the datapadd on the coffee table, and Rose noticed for the first time that his jacket was unbuttoned when it gaped open, revealing his undershirt pulled snug across his chest.

“Oh,” she breathed then quickly glued her eyes to the portrait above his head before he could notice that she was looking. When he stood and walked over to his desk she took one more second before she felt comfortable enough to follow.

“They needed our help,” he said without turning, “and I was too blinded by… other things to see that. Which is why…”

He turned and handed her a different datapadd.

“It’s a small mission. Came through a few days ago. Practically fool-proof - not that I think you’re a fool. You’re not.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “I thought I’d offer it to you. Let you decide.”

Rose looked down and scrolled through the mission details. It did look simple. The planet was only a day away by warp speed, and, if everything went well they could be done and on their way within a few hours. But…

“Captain, this is great and all, but I’m sure there are far more important things we could be doing.”

She looked up to see his expression was unguarded. _This_ man was the one who’d kissed her in Astrometrics. _This_ man was the one who’d held her in the Mytian garden. _This_ man was the one who’d shielded her from a Ettel dissenter's bomb.

His voice was soft, inviting, and it gently reached deep inside her to pull her closer despite knowing that _this_ man could disappear without a moment’s notice. “Your choice.”

But, really, what choice did she have?

“Okay.” She smiled, bracing herself as best she could. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Fantastic!”

They’d been on the planet less than five minutes when the Captain’s hand closed around hers. “ _Run_ ”.

* * /\ * *

“I thought you said this mission was fool-proof!”

“It’s not my fault the --”

Something exploded behind them - way too close for comfort - and they put on a burst of speed, dodging trees and vaulting over underbrush, hands still clasped tightly between them. Just a little bit further and they’d be outside of the inhibitor field that was preventing the Tardis from locking onto their signals.

Jon was concerned with getting away safely, yes, but he was riding an adrenaline high the likes of which he’d never experienced before. The Lieutenant’s emotions coursed through him: fear, yes, but also excitement and happiness. The last one had confused him a bit at first, but then he’d turned his head to look at her and seen the shining smile on her face. Her tongue had made an appearance when she caught him looking, and he’d returned her smile with one of his own.

When they reached the end of the tree line that was supposed to be the edge of the inhibitor field, he tapped his communicator.

 _“We see you, Captain,”_ came the reply from the ship, _“but your signals are still too weak.”_

He swore and tried to find a way to explain to the Lieutenant what was going on. Maybe also to apologize for putting her in this situation in the first place. He could still hear their pursuers gaining ground, but there wasn’t much ground left. Several yards ahead of them was the yawning maw of a canyon nearly wide enough to land the Tardis inside. There was nowhere for them to go.

“Lieutenant --”

Her hand gripped his tighter. “Just a little farther, right, Captain?”

It was a brave front she was putting on, he could feel its brittleness, but he nodded and kept pace with her. They slowed together as they reached the drop-off, and he didn’t even have to think about pulling her close and wrapping his arm around her waist.

Once again, he tapped his combadge. “Last chance, Tardis.”

The voice of his Chief Engineer filled the air as the dematerialization sequence began. _“Bringing you home.”_

Jon looked down at the woman in his arms as the world fell away.

Lt. Commander Smith was standing at the edge of the pad. “What the hell happened out there, Rose?”

In the safety of the transporter room, the adrenaline finally gave way and was replaced by giddiness that was so foreign Jon almost felt like a different man.

“There was this weird munchkin woman with big eyes,” the Lieutenant started.

“The way she looked at you!” Jon laughed. “And then she opens her mouth and fire comes out!”

“I thought I was going to get frazzled!”

"Yeah. One minute she's standing there, and the next minute _roar_!”

The Lieutenant’s laughter joined his, and it felt _good_. Lt. Commander Smith, however, was looking at them as though they were the ones shooting fire out of their mouths, and the laughter came to an awkward end. Then Jon felt a tiny pat where the Lieutenant’s hand rested on his chest and his brain finally engaged properly again. He dropped the arm around her and the loss of her sucked the rest of the light out of him.

Her eyes grew sad as she stepped away and he ached to pull her back into his arms. “Thank you, Captain, for an entertaining mission, but I think we’re going to have to log this one as a failure.”

She nodded formally and stepped down from the pad.

He watched her walk out of the transporter room and turn left, Lt. Commander Smith dogging her heels. After a moment, Jon left, too, but turned right.

When he stepped onto the bridge, Sarah Jane took one look at him, at the scorched hem of his trousers and the rip in his jacket where a tree branch had snagged him, and sent him to his quarters. The bridge crew was accustomed to him showing up with his uniform in all manner of disrepair after a mission, so it wasn’t quite a scolding, but it felt like one.

Once he had showered, changed into a fresh uniform, and was feeling more like himself, he tried again.

“Captain on the bridge.”

He smirked at Sarah Jane as she stepped away from his chair, and splayed his arms out to his sides. “Better?”

“Quite. Though, it’s been quiet up here. You could have stayed away.”

“You wound me, Sarah.” He shooed her towards the turbolift. “Go back to Astrometrics. Let me sit in the big chair and earn my keep for a while.”

She smiled fondly. “Yes, Captain.”

He settled into the chair and pulled up the recent communication logs from the computer in the armrest. That led to reviewing the mission broadcasts. There were a few within reasonable distance that he and his crew could handle, so he sorted through them and absolutely did not make his final decision based upon the fact that the Lieutenant would have to be involved.

“Set course for Breumia.”

“Aye, Captain.”

A few minutes later he had the away team planned, but he hesitated before pressing the button that would send out the notifications to them. It would take the ship more than a day to travel there; he could let her rest a bit before throwing her back into the fray.

* * /\ * *

When everyone came together for the briefing a few hours before they were scheduled to reach the planet, his eyes found the Lieutenant the minute she walked into the room, despite the fact that she was in the middle of the group. She caught him looking as she found her seat, and he offered her a small smile, warmth spreading through him when her eyes softened and a light blush dusted her cheeks.

He’d told Donna the truth, he remembered Grandad’s teachings quite clearly. Which meant he knew that the bond visions connected to specific places were the strongest memories of what would occur there. His quarters and ready room were two of the locations where he’d seen multiple visions, something he could easily understand in both instances. And though he’d gotten better about ignoring the one on the bridge, every time he set foot there he hoped that another one would begin to play instead.

So far, though, there was no vision memory of them in the briefing room. Jon had a sudden urge to pull her up from the seat she’d just taken and create one. Despite that thought - and the myriad of others that spun off from it - playing through his mind, he somehow managed to give a coherent briefing on the mission ahead of them.


End file.
